“He said he could read minds, which, really, if you are going to claim a power, I don’t know why you’d claim one so entirely disprovable.” Mr. Kent had joined the rest of us at breakfast, fresh from an errand to gather newspapers, gossip, and the general tenor of the city.
So far, he had told of us a woman who swore she could hear rocks speak, another who seemed to believe she was Nostradamus come back to life, and a man who claimed an ability to multiply the number of sheep in any given room—not outside, but the amount of sheep inside a room.
“But it’s the rumors about Mr. Braddock that are the most absurd—that he’s a spy or a demon or … French. I mean, really, even I think that’s going a bit too far, and I barely like you.”
“I saved your life.” Sebastian sounded more affronted than I would have expected, and I saw Mr. Kent quickly hide a smile. If I didn’t know better, I would think he had taken up my own strategy of needling Sebastian into talking and participating through sheer annoyance.
“You saved my ankle,” Mr. Kent corrected Sebastian, whipping an embroidered napkin onto his lap and reaching for another scone. “And while I am partial to my ankle, I think we can all agree that a man’s ankle is not the same as say, a lady’s ankle. Not that I would turn down a man with a good set of ankles. It’s all about anticipation, really. Oh, do you want to hear my Grand Ankle Theory?”
No one did.
Miss Chen tossed her napkin across the table at Mr. Kent, who caught it and wrapped it around his scone as he rose from his seat. “Fine. Remain unenlightened. Mr. Adeoti, are you ready to go?”
Mr. Adeoti was already standing, a notebook in hand, an eager smile on his face. “Yes, of course.”
“Ready for what?” I asked, perhaps a bit too demandingly.
“We’re going back to Westminster Abbey for clues,” Mr. Kent said. “If Captain Goode or anyone from the Society dropped or touched something, we might see what they have planned.”
“That’s a good idea,” I said, standing up. “Who’s coming?”
Mr. Kent shook his head. “It’ll be too conspicuous with a bigger group.”
“Especially with someone who keeps firing a gun,” Catherine put in tartly.
“I shot once,” I said. “And it would have ended everything.”
“Yes, it would have gotten you killed, and then they would have found us, too,” Catherine said.
She gave a worried glance at Rose and glared back at me. I sat down; no way to argue that. She really was getting protective of Rose.
“Well, enjoy … sitting in uncomfortable silence for the rest of the day. We’re off,” Mr. Kent said, giving a nod to Mr. Adeoti. “Now tell me, is it possible that someone’s power could be the ability to be extraordinarily handsome?”
“I don’t know. Perhaps. Anything is possible!” Mr. Adeoti answered.
“So is it possible for someone, let’s say me, for example, to have two powers?”
Their voices drifted away down the hall, and a moment later we heard the front door close. The silence was so thick that I could have sliced it and spread it on my scone. And what could we do for the rest of the day? Ahead of us were hours of nothing but drinking tea and waiting here for Mr. Kent, while Captain Goode was out there turning more and more of London against us.
The only noise for a few minutes was the shuffling of paper, the clinking of silverware, and the whispers of Emily and Laura as they fussed with a piece of fabric.
Sebastian let out a breath as he flipped through article after article vilifying his name. I patted his shoulder, and he gave me a grumpy glare. Which I deserved, considering how I’d implicated him further. But still, I would accept a grumpy glare over a vacant stare any day.
Catherine and Rose were at the far end of the table, Rose staring at her tea and Catherine frowning as she rubbed at her spectacles. She fumbled on the table for her napkin but couldn’t locate it without the glasses, until Rose reached over and pressed it gently into her hand. Catherine sent her a warm, happy look, and Rose cracked a real smile for a moment before her face fell and she turned back to her tea, seeming to shrink a little.
Next to them, Miss Chen had closed her eyes as she chewed her breakfast. At first, it seemed like she was relishing her scone with far more appreciation than I’d ever seen someone have for one. But then the image reminded me of the time I saw her at the Society. When Oliver and I had interrupted her in the middle of her training.
I banged my cup down a little more forcefully than I had intended and got up, pushing my chair away from the table with a screech that made everyone turn to me. “I think we have to train,” I said.
As soon as I spoke the words, it felt like the key to everything. To Sebastian and Rose overcoming their worries about their powers. To getting us close enough to Captain Goode without feeling helpless.
“Train what?” Rose asked, looking a bit perplexed.
“Our powers,” I said. “Miss Chen, I believe you have some measure of control over yours. Is that correct?”
She nodded reluctantly. “Yes. Somewhat.”
Rose’s eyes grew wide in the same way they did whenever she’d read about some fascinating new treatment. Sebastian was slowly lifting his head, blinking as if he were just coming back to us.
Seeing their reactions, Miss Chen grew a bit self-conscious. “But I don’t know what kind of teacher I would be, either. I barely understand the idea behind it myself. I only had a little instruction—”
“I would be very glad of anything you could teach me,” Rose said, looking at her intently. “Perhaps if we were all learning, someone might stumble upon a new discovery.”
Miss Chen considered that and gave a shrug. “Right. Well, nothing else to do.…” She surveyed the room for a moment, considering. “Don’t suppose Mrs. T would let us use the parlor?”
“Yes, let’s try not to break anything,” I said, gesturing everyone to the door.
Emily slung an arm around Laura’s shoulder and rubbed her back a little, promising that later they could find Soot the cat and see if he wanted to fly around with them.
I made a note to find Soot and hide him.
As everyone filed out of the room, I hung back and caught Catherine’s hand. “I’m sorry. Is everything all right? I don’t want you to be mad at me.”
Catherine nodded. “I know. I’m not. I—”
“What is it?” I asked.
Her voice was higher than usual, and she scratched at her arm uncomfortably. “It’s Rose—I don’t want to add to her distress after all that’s happened. And it’s … just … well, has she said anything to you?”
I blinked a few times. “About what?”
“Um, is she perhaps mad at me?” Catherine became extremely interested in the cuff of her sleeve.
No,” I said quickly, for if anything, Catherine seemed to be the one person Rose wanted to be around. “Why would you think that?”
“I think she’s avoiding me.” And when she said that, I did recall how Rose had wanted to room with me. Surely that was simply because we were sisters or some notion Rose had about bothering Catherine?
“I think Rose is glad to have a friend here,” I said, but something made me look again at Catherine. Wild curls of hair were tumbling around her face, not willing to be tamed into a knot. But that was always the case with Catherine, who cared little for appearances. It was the sadness and tension in her eyes that seemed out of place. “You don’t normally worry about what anyone thinks about you.”
“Yes, well, she’s not anyone,” Catherine said. “She’s your sister and I want to help. I hope I haven’t done anything to upset her.”
“I truly don’t think you have,” I assured her. “It’s everything else in the world that’s so upsetting. You’re the one other person she knows from before all this powers nonsense. When she first came back, I could tell you were the best person to help her. She just needs time. We all do.”
She squeezed my hand once and shook out her skirts. “You’re right. I’m being silly. There’s a lot going on.” She stood up straighter, and we followed the others to the parlor.
Everyone settled in, and I looked for Sebastian, hopeful that maybe Miss Chen’s teaching would be able to help him.